Chronicles of an Adventure Chapter 1 Submissions
by Chronicles of an Adventure
Summary: Eric has received a call from his long time friend, Gabriella Calabrese AKA Gabby who is the Sheriff of Area 7, Chicago. Her bonded, a human named Matthew Gregorian has disappeared and Gabby is frantic to find him and asks Eric for help
1. Guideline

Thanks for joining _The Chronicles of an Adventure _project. We hope you enjoy the writing of some wonderful authors and share in the excitement of this new creative endeavor. We really appreciate all the support and encouragement we've received and if everything goes according to plan we would like to make this an annual event ~ but time will tell.

Since this a bit "different" than the classic contest/challenge we are sharing the chapters a bit differently. We are creating a "story" for each set of chapters with all the submissions listed by chapter. You will see each clearly named with the title and author. For example all the chapter 1 submissions will be grouped together in a story labeled Chapter 1 submissions and so on. Below you will find a list of the chapters submitted so far and updates will be done as needed.

Please click on the next chapters to find the stories listed below.

"Trail's Head" by Dragonfey57

"Matthew" by Merick


	2. Trail's Head By Dragonfey57

Authors Name: Dragonfey57  
Beta: ericsminion  
Chapter Number: 1  
Title: "Trail's Head"

Eric set at his desk, thinking over the conversation with the tracker he had hired. Ian was one of the best around, but even Weres have limitations. He would be helpful during the daytime in the search for Gabriella's human, Matthew, but no Were had his particular set of skills. It was decided; he was going to Chicago himself.

"Pam!" he called out as he moved quickly towards Fangtasia's back door, "call ahead and make all the arrangements for me to get to Chicago a.s.a.p."

Before Pam could even call out "good luck" to Eric he was gone.

He had known Gabby since the 16th century, when they were both taking advantage of the upheavals in Genoa, Italy. It was an exciting time, Eric recalled as he sat on the plane. So many battles over seas and lands that one could fight and feed in. Or you could enjoy the great painters at work at the time, such as Rubens and Van Dyck.

Of course, Eric had loved jumping on board outbound ships for battle or trade, just for the adventure. Gabby had been a privileged Roman as a human, and had the best of the aristocratic features; a proud profile with thick, dark hair to match her dark, devilish eyes. Standing next to each other, they were like night and day. Early on, their relationship had been fiery, erotic and heady. They were never meant to last as lovers and they both knew this; fortunately they became extremely close after they had burned their intense passion out. But Gabby was still a wonderful fighter, a worthy warrior in his eyes. And they had often revisited their affair over the centuries. But it had been quite a while since he had seen her outside of official functions.

Ian met Eric at the Chicago airport. The Were's car was a rental, since it was rather mundane. Eric knew his personal car was a Porsche. Not one to blend into the background.

"Tell me," Eric demanded.

"Well sir, I could easily pick up Matthew's scent in his loft. Apparently he is a painter with a growing local following and he goes there during the day to work. There was obviously a struggle, and I could smell several Weres, and I believe a witch. The air is heavy with magic. I followed their scents to a parking space behind the building and obtained some very grainy security footage. You can only tell there are three figures carrying another one, while one follows. They get in a van and drive off. But there must be a charm on the van, I can't follow the scent at all from there," Ian told Eric.

"This is what I paid you for? You are supposed to be one of the best in North America!" Eric's voice rose only slightly but his voice still carried great menace.

Eric wasn't as irritated with Ian as much as with the situation. He had known Ian Volkov Zolnerowich since he was a pup. Ian was from a long line of Russian Werewolves who were known for their extreme size, tracking abilities and high morals. He and Godric had often combined forces with them to find the pack of insane Weres led by the then unknown vampire. Ian was an impressive wolf; a large, black male who would certainly be a pack leader if he didn't work as tracker. As it was, he was a great contributor to the numbers of his pack, being extremely popular with the females when he was back home. In human form he was as tall as Eric, with bright blue eyes to contrast his coal-black wavy hair. He was just slightly stockier than Eric but not by much. He stayed lean by preferring swordplay to guns as much as possible, along with martial arts.

"Honestly Eric, I have spoken with Sheriff Calabrese and I believe she is withholding facts from me. She tells me she went to her day death and then that night she could feel he was missing. And she cannot track him. But the strange thing is, she insists that neither she nor Matthew have anyone who would wish to do such harm to them."

"Have you found something to make you think otherwise?" asked Eric as the car closed in on Gabby's home.

"Actually I have. I haven't been able to trace it all, but she seems to be funneling large sums of money, $75,000 or more, a month into Matthew's checking account which then goes out in a couple of days to an off shore account in the Caymans. I think she or he may be being blackmailed. My contact down there hasn't been able to find the account owner yet, but they are in the U.S."

'Dammit, Gabby,' Eric thought to himself. She had basically told him the same story that she had told Ian. What was she hiding? Why would she hide it from him of all people? She could trust him with her life, and had on many occasions. He knew she loved this Matthew; she had been hysterical when she called. He could barely understand her words for her tears. He simply could not stand crying women, dammit!

"Change of destination Ian; let's check out that loft before we go to Gabby's. I want to see it for myself before I ask her what the hell is going on."


	3. Mathew by Merick

Author's Name: Merick

Beta: Daniel Rook

Chapter 1

Title: Mathew

"Please don't make me do this again?" The voice was soft, and might have been called musical were it not so despondent in its plea. Large eyes looked up at the giant of a man towering above her, his face showed no mercy, not to her, not to the human slumped in the chair in front of them both. Sometimes he smiled at her, the giant man, sometimes his long nose crowned the glimmer of white teeth splitting beautiful red lips. Sometimes his green eyes glittered, but not that day.

"Go into his soul, we need what he hides little one." At least his voice was not angry, she hated it when his voice was angry, it made her feel small, and worthless.

"But it hurts him." She pleaded.

"Then he will give us what we need sooner, and we can release him." His smile was indulgent, and she didn't quite believe that the man would ever let the human go.

She padded across the floor to the bound human, his head was hung down over his lap, and the only thing that kept him from slumping to the floor were the ropes that lashed him to the chair. She reached out a small hand to touch his knee, to rouse him; it was always easier when they were awake, or conscious. Then she didn't have to tear past the barriers of the closed mind. Doing that always hurt them more.

"Mathew?" She whispered. It was important to know their names; no one she had encountered thus far had been completely able to ignore their own names when she called them. This Mathew was no different. She felt his eyes open before she saw them, his face rising to look into hers. He was grey, his lips were pale and cracked, his eyes red rimmed, with dark circles, he was the epitome of misery and the sight of him brought tears to her eyes as well.

A hand on her shoulder did nothing to steady her.

"Come Aletheia. Find me the truth."

She put a second hand on Mathew's other knee, her despair as visible as his.

"I am sorry." She mouthed to him, and then she bowed her head. His fell back and he began to moan.

Her first incursions were always as gentle as she could manage, and she hoped with each foray that the fragile human would give her what she sought so she needn't rip. They rarely did, and Mathew was an even more difficult case. As the bonded of a Vampire, a Sheriff no less, his mind was better trained, and might have even been glamoured to prevent others from discovering the secrets. She could get past the glamour; with some effort. But to avoid leaving a useless, shredded mess behind that no one could salvage she proceeded very carefully.

It was like opening a book that had been soaked in water, having to turn each page with great delicacy, separating the layers of memories that were nearly meshed together, without tearing them, or reading through the transparencies and muddling the message entirely.

"Please Mathew," her voice had taken on the bell like quality that was most familiar to her, and to the giant who listened. "Please tell me where Gabriella has hidden it, and I will bring you water, and I will loosen your bonds. I will care for your aching muscles and torn skin. Just tell me where it is."

She could feel the tears rolling down his face even though she was not looking at him, it was part of her gift, part of her curse, she felt the pain she was inflicting. Not the actual pain, of having a mind torn, having small pieces of your soul trampled, no, but the misery it caused the humans and other creatures she worked her magic on.

"Gabriella." Mathew moaned, the cry punctuated by a sob that rocked his whole being.

"Stone work?" She said out loud, "He sees stone work, sandstone, it is at least a century old."

The giant behind her hummed, and stroked his chin. "How many buildings can there be in Chicago that are sandstone and over a century old?" He rested his hand on Aletheia's shoulder again. "It is a start my beauty. Thank you." She pulled herself back from the mostly intact mind slowly, trying to close each leaf of paper flat, without crease or tear.

"Thank you Mathew." She whispered to him, still holding his knees, feeling him tremble. "Let me get you some water."

His sob reverberated deep in her core.


End file.
